


The Way Out of the Desert

by heyjupiter



Category: Breaking Bad, The Path (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Cults, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mistaken Identity, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6691159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years after leaving Albuquerque for good, Jesse Pinkman was doing woodworking in Rindge, New Hampshire, when the tornado hit. Mistaken for Eddie Lane, Jesse was picked up by the Meyerists and taken back to their New York compound, where Sarah Lane has questions for him and Eddie Lane might have answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way Out of the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> My hc _bingo challenge was a crossover using the prompts "mistaken identity, accidents, brainwashing / deprogramming," so naturally that screamed The Path to me. And of course I can't help but get cute about crossover Aaron Pauls.
> 
> I slightly tweaked the timeline of The Path here to have Eddie still be in Peru when the tornado hit, because that seemed easier to me than making up a whole new disaster. 
> 
> This would be set a few years after Breaking Bad and around the first episode of The Path. *handwave*

Jesse dug through the rubble, trying to find the source of the whimpering sound. "Hey, it's alright, I'm coming," he called, hoping it sounded plausible. He actually wasn't sure if it would be. He'd ignored the siren too, hoping to get a little more work done on the Thompsons' remodel. They'd have to do more than remodel now. Their whole block--maybe even their whole town--had been leveled by the tornado. He'd seen storms before but never anything like that. But somehow he'd survived. He kept surviving.

He tossed aside more chunks of concrete. Working in construction for the last few years had made him physically stronger than he'd ever been in his life, but he was already starting to wear out. It wasn't like he was the Incredible Hulk or anything. He cleared away enough to reveal the face of a trapped little boy. "Hey, kiddo, it's okay," he said. "Give me your hand."

He said something, but he was crying too hard for Jesse to understand it.

"Take a deep breath," Jesse said.

"My arm is stuck," the boy said, once he caught his breath. "I--I think it's broken."

"I'm sure an ambulance will come soon," Jesse said, although he hadn't seen any emergency responders yet. "Let's just get you out of there." He took a step back, trying to figure out how he could free the boy while lifting the fewest heavy things. He'd already done half a day's work before the tornado, and he didn't see anyone else around who might be coming to help. He reached down to pry out a beam, but it made the unstable pile of rubble shift. Jesse lost his balance and fell.

He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again. The light was too bright. He felt a gentle touch on his hand. "Eddie?" a woman's voice asked.

Jesse had used a few different names since leaving New Mexico, but Eddie wasn't one of them. 

"Eddie, are you awake? I thought I saw you open your eyes. I've been so worried."

Jesse kept his eyes shut for another moment, trying to remember where he was. Pieces came back to him: the tornado, the destruction… he opened his eyes to a squint and said, "There's a boy who needs help…"

The woman stroked his hand and said, "Don't worry about that. He's safe. We found him the same time we found you."

"He's okay?" Jesse asked.

"Broken arm and a few other injuries, but yes, fine. He's with his parents."

"Good. That's good," Jesse said. He closed his eyes again. 

"I love you," the woman murmured. She ran her hand through his hair.

"Mmm," replied Jesse. It had been a long time since anyone had said that to him.

When he woke up again, his head felt less hazy, if more painful. He opened his eyes again. He was pretty sure the same woman was still by his bedside. She smiled.

"How are you feeling, Eddie?" she asked. She smoothed his hair again, and Jesse hated how good it felt.

"Better," he said. He hesitated. "But, um, my name's not Eddie." He had decided he should clear the air as soon as possible.

"What do you mean?"

"Just...I think maybe you have me confused with someone else?"

She laughed. "Right. You have a concussion but I'm the confused one?"

Jesse shrugged as best he could. Her smile faded. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, but…"

"Let me get the doctor." She left and returned with a woman wearing a white coat and some kind of turban.

The doctor smiled. "Do you remember what happened?"

"There was a tornado. I made it to the Thompsons' basement at like, the last possible second, and it was all destroyed above me....when it was over, I got out, and there was the kid trapped in the rubble. I was trying to help him, and I guess...I fell."

"Who are the Thompsons?" the doctor asked.

"The clients, uh, I was working on their house. I do woodworking."

"Since when?" the first woman asked.

"Uh...I dunno, I really liked wood shop in high school and I got into it seriously a couple years ago."

"That makes no sense," the woman said. "And when did you get back from Peru?"

"Shh," the doctor said. "Disorientation is very common with this kind of head injury." She peered down at Jesse and asked, "What is your name?"

"John. John Grey," Jesse said. 

"Wait. John? Are you Eddie's brother?" asked the woman.

"No, I--I don't have a brother," Jesse said. Technically, he knew Jake Pinkman was still out there, but Jesse couldn't count him as a brother, not anymore. Anyway, Jake wasn't Eddie, obviously. "There's obviously been some kind of--misunderstanding." 

He hoped this wasn't going to be too much of a problem to clear up. He did have some insurance through the union, butt he knew it wasn't great. And if this woman was going to dig too deep into Jesse's past, he wasn't sure what she'd dig up. He had a good, pricey fake ID, but its success mainly relied upon Jesse keeping his head down and staying out of trouble. Jesse squirmed. His right arm was in a cast and his left arm was attached to an IV. He wanted to reach for his wallet but he couldn't figure out where to reach it. Also, he realized it wouldn't be in his hospital gown.

"Where's my wallet?"

The doctor shook her head. "Your personal effects are in that plastic bag, but there wasn't a wallet or any other ID on you when you got here. Cal identified you based on your appearance."

Jesse moaned. "Shit. It must be back in Rindge." 

"Don't worry about that now," the doctor soothed. "Everything will be taken care of. Material things can be replaced."

Jesse sighed. His fake documents were not going to be easy to replace, but there was no point telling the nice doctor that.

"Sarah, have you called Eddie?" 

"No, I--I guess I'll try him," the woman--Sarah--said. She pulled out her phone and stepped out into the hall, giving Jesse a wary look on her way out.

The doctor patted Jesse's hand. "You should rest, Ed--John. We'll get to the bottom of this. Love and light to you."

"Uh, thanks," Jesse said. His head still felt hazy from the medicine. He wondered what they were giving him. Probably nothing a recovering addict should have. That was the least of his problems, though--he had no ID, no money, nobody he could call, and if his arm was broken, he was going to be out of work for awhile. He wondered if he'd even have a home to go to. He'd been living in a trailer park outside of Keene, which was 20 miles from Rindge. But he had no idea what the tornado's path had been. He looked around the room. The furniture and curtains looked a bit nicer than other hospital rooms he'd been in. Less institutional, more homey. But there was no TV on the wall, no magazines or newspapers left out. Just a big, creepy wooden eye on the wall and some medical equipment.

Sarah came back in the room. "Who _are_ you?" she asked. 

"I told you, my name's John Grey."

"I just got off the phone with Eddie. He's in Peru."

"Yeah, it's I told you, I don't know who Eddie is."

She pursed her lips and showed him a photo on her phone. It was of her smiling with a man who looked a lot like Jesse. "That's Eddie. He's my husband."

"Wow." 

"Yeah."

She took the phone back and typed out a message on it before pocketing it.

"This can't be a coincidence," she said.

"Sure it can."

"It must be a sign. But of what?" 

"No good deed goes unpunished?" Jesse joked.

Sarah froze. "What? Why would you say that?" Her tone was alarmed.

"Whoa, it's just, like, a saying? Like...I fell because I was trying to help that kid. Is all."

"Oh. Right. Because, you know, you don't have to carry that pain with you--" she looked up as a man entered the room. "Oh, Cal, thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course, Sarah. You know I'm here for you. Both of you."

"That's the thing...this isn't Eddie."

The man looked at Jesse, and back at Sarah. "I'm sorry?"

"My name is John," Jesse said. "I'm a woodworker, I live in Keene. She showed me a picture of that guy Eddie...I do see the resemblance for sure, but, uh, it's not me."

"I called Eddie. He is still in Peru."

"You're sure?" the man asked. 

Sarah and Jesse both nodded.

"John, please accept my apologies for the misunderstanding," the man said.

Jesse shrugged. "It's cool. Thanks for bringing me to the hospital."

The man winced. He said, "I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm Cal Roberts."

"John Grey," Jesse said, giving a little wave of his hand, careful of the IV. 

"Is there anyone you'd like us to call?" Cal asked.

"No," Jesse said. Cal looked almost _relieved_ at that.

"You're sure? No roommates, friends, family, anyone going to worry about where you are? The tornado made national news," Cal said.

"No. There's no one. Uh, I'm pretty new in town."

"I see," Cal said. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but you are welcome to stay here as long as you'd like."

"Uh, I don't think my insurance is that good."

Cal smiled. "This isn't exactly a hospital, John. It's...it's a sanctuary."

"Ohh. Like, for nuns?" Jesse looked around the room again. He'd have expected to see more crosses and shit. Maybe the big eye was a Catholic thing? 

"No. We're not a religion. We're a movement," Cal said. "We're here to help."

Jesse wasn't totally sure what that meant, but at least it sounded like he wasn't going to end up with a shit-ton of hospital bills. "Okay, thanks," Jesse said.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Cal asked.

Jesse's stomach felt both empty and nauseous, but his mouth was dry. "Thirsty, I guess."

"I'll get you some water," Cal said with a smile. He left the room and returned with a water bottle that had the same eye logo that was on the wall. Jesse sipped from it gratefully. 

Cal pointed out a button on the bed. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to use the call button and someone will be right with you."

"Uh, actually, could I get a magazine or something?" Jesse asked. He really would have rather had a TV--nothing like some sick day Price is Right--but that seemed too much to ask.

"Of course," Cal said. "Just a moment." He brought in a basket of magazines and placed it next to Jesse's bed. "As I said, do call if you need anything else. Love and light to you."

"Love and light to you," Sarah echoed. She rose from her chair and followed Cal out, leaving Jesse alone in the weird not-hospital room. He picked up the top magazine off the pile. It was something called Pathway. He carefully flipped through the basket, hoping for a Rolling Stone or something, but he discovered that they were all back issues of Pathway magazine. He supposed beggars couldn't be choosers and read the most recent one. There was an interview with that guy Cal. Jesse read about Cal's upcoming return to New York after three years in California--wait, New York? Were they in New York? He'd have to figure that out later. Cal talked to the magazine about climbing the Ladder, and bringing people to the Garden, and sending love and light to the Deniers and Ignorant Systemites. It all sounded kind of like NA, but from what he could see, this place seemed a lot nicer than any church or community center he'd ever attended NA meetings in.

He turned the page and read about the Movement's rescue work after a flood in Memphis. Workers in matching T-shirts smiled out at him from the page. They looked so peaceful. Jesse must have drifted off staring at them. When he opened his eyes, the doctor was back, writing on a clipboard. She smiled at him. "How do you feel, John?"

He shrugged. "Okay."

"Are you hungry? Let's get you something to eat," she said before he could answer. She brought him a tray with applesauce, a roll, and yogurt. 

Jesse's stomach felt a bit better, and he tried the applesauce. "Wow, that's like, really good," he blurted. He hadn't eaten applesauce in years but he remembered it as bland.

The doctor smiled. "I'm so glad you like it. It's homemade, from apples from our organic orchard here. The yogurt is made from local milk, and the bread is baked fresh daily."

"Best hospital food I ever had."

"This isn't a hospital. We really want to make your whole self well, and we believe that includes the food you eat."

"Wow. I mostly eat a lot of frozen meals…"

"None of that here."

"Nice."

"So, John, just to let you know, you had a pretty bad concussion from your head injury. Your right wrist is fractured, and you've got a few cracked ribs. And of course some scrapes and contusions."

"Uh-huh."

"So, we'll definitely want to keep you here overnight for observation, and then we'll see what things look like tomorrow. Now--when you came in, we were using Eddie's medical history, because, well--anyway, do you have any allergies? Or chronic conditions, anything we should know about?"

"Um," Jesse said. "No allergies. I'm pretty healthy." He wondered if she'd noticed his scars. Uncle Jack, Todd, and the rest had left their physical mark on Jesse's body, and he was pretty sure that stuff wouldn't be mistaken for fresh injuries. 

"You're getting a morphine drip for the pain. You can adjust that with this button--if the pain is too great, you can press it to increase the morphine."

"Okay," Jesse said. He wondered if he could ask her to take it away without raising too many red flags. He should be okay, though, right? He'd been clean for a few years now. He'd just keep the painkillers at the lowest level and not think about the button.

The doctor looked at him carefully and said, "Or, if you're not comfortable with that--and your pain level is okay--we could start weaning you off the morphine now. Some people just don't like it!"

"Uh. Yeah, actually, I probably don't really need it. It's not that bad, or anything." 

"That's your decision. We'll taper off the morphine and I'll get you some non-narcotic pain pills if you need them later." She adjusted his IV and made a note on her clipboard.

Jesse winced. Did he have _junkie_ written on his face? The doctor smiled. "We're used to seeing all kinds of patients here, John. We just want you to be your best self."

"Right. Um. Thanks."

"Love and light to you, John. Please call if you need anything."

Jesse ate more of his homemade, organic food while reading another issue of Pathway magazine. He started to feel a throbbing pain in his head, wrist, and ribs, but it wasn't too bad. He'd felt worse, anyway. His head felt clearer, too, and he didn't feel tired. He read more of the magazines. He still didn't entirely understand what the Meyerist Movement was, but they seemed to do a lot of nice stuff.

The doctor brought him a few pills in a paper cup. He swallowed them and slept. In the morning, he ate a delicious homemade breakfast. His IV was removed and he was allowed to take a cautious, one-armed shower with amazing soap.

When he was clean and dressed in his own T-shirt with the Meyerist eye logo on it, Cal and Sarah came back, with the doctor trailing behind them. 

"How are you feeling, John?" Cal asked.

"Not too bad."

"Good, good. Doctor Myra here says you're cleared to leave today, if you'd like."

"Oh. Good. That's good," Jesse said.

"But we hoped you'd choose to stay with me and my family, for at least a few days," Sarah said. 

"Huh?" Jesse asked.

"That way you can stay close to our treatment center for any follow-up medical care," Cal said.

"And...and I'd like for you to meet Eddie, when he gets back," Sarah said. "We have a very nice guest room. I'm sure you'll be comfortable."

"Uh…"

"And you can have more of our delicious applesauce," the doctor said.

_What the hell,_ Jesse thought. It wasn't like he had much to go back to. "I mean, if it's not too much trouble…"

Sarah and Cal gave him relieved smiles. "It's no trouble at all, John," Sarah said. "We're happy to have you."

"Okay. Thanks."

Dr. Myra gave him a bottle of pills and some care instructions for his wrist and ribs, and made him schedule a follow-up visit in a week's time.

"Let's go," Sarah said. "My car's just out front."

Jesse followed and was given a tour of an extremely nice house. He noticed the same wooden eye featured frequently in the decor. "What's the eye?" he asked.

"The Eye is a symbol of the Meyerist Movement."

"Oh. Right."

"It symbolizes that all things will be seen."

"Right," Jesse repeated, with a vigorous nod. He'd read all those Meyerist magazines but he'd been kind of out of it. "I haven't heard of Meyerism before. Is that like a local thing or…?"

"Meyerism is a global movement," Sarah said. "But we prefer to spread by word of mouth. People will find us when they are ready to find us. Here, you'll stay on the couch. It's a fold-out--I'll help you with it tonight. It's actually more comfortable than you might think."

"I'm sure it's great," Jesse said, trying not to think of all the worse places he'd slept. "Thanks. You have, uh, a lovely home."

"Thank you." She looked at her watch. "Please excuse me--I have a meeting I can't miss. I should be back by lunch time. Just in case, there are emergency numbers on the fridge. As I said, please make yourself at home. I'm sure you'll just want to rest."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Jesse said. "Thanks."

Through the window, he watched her drive off. Of course, they knew nothing about Jesse's background, but he was shocked to have passed for the kind of person who could be trusted alone in a very nice house. Maybe he wasn't being trusted--maybe those wooden eyes had cameras in them. Or maybe they were just supposed to creep him out into feeling watched. It didn't matter--he wasn't going to do anything, but before long they might be able to dig up Jesse's past. Then he'd definitely get kicked out of the guest room and straight into a jail cell.

Jesse noticed they didn't have a television. He pulled a copy of _The Ladder_ off the shelf. In his magazines, he'd gathered that this was like, the Bible of Meyerism. He figured he should check it out if he was going to stay here. It seemed kind of like a not-fun Dr. Seuss book, but it made as much sense as a religious text as the Bible, really. 

He ate lunch with Sarah, and he was thankful for her quiet--after the long, weird prayer she said over the food. He didn't feel like answering prying questions--or more accurately, making up answers to them. She excused herself to do more work but said she'd be back when the kids got home from school. 

"Right, kids," Jesse said. "I saw their pictures...what are their names?"

"Hawk--he's 15--and Summer, she's 8," Sarah said. She looked proud and beneath it, slightly concerned. Jesse felt relieved at that, actually--she'd finally realized she'd invited someone dangerous into her home. 

"Great!" Jesse said. 

"You don't mind kids?"

"What? No, kids are great."

"Oh. Yes. Good. Well, we'll see you in a few hours, then."

A few hours later, the family arrived. The girl--Summer--stared at him wide-eyed. "Mommy, are you _sure_ that's not Daddy?"

"Yep. Remember, I told you, he's just someone who was sent to us. He looks just like Daddy, though, huh?"

"You guys have to be brothers, right?" Hawk asked shyly.

Jesse shrugged. "I dunno, man. Could just be one of those things."

"Your father will be home tonight," Sarah said.

"Tonight? I thought he still had like 4 more days of 6R?" Hawk asked.

"He's coming home early," Sarah said, her voice tight.

"You're not supposed to do that," Hawk said. 

"Well, on the phone it sounded like he'd already had a breakthrough," Sarah said.

"Will you read me a story?" Summer asked Jesse, holding up _The Ladder_ to him.

"Summer, John is tired."

"No, no, I'd love to," Jesse said. "I've been sleepin' all day, if I sleep any more I might turn into Rip Van Winkle."

Summer laughed. "What?"

"Uh, you know, the old story, about the guy who fell asleep for a hundred years?"

Summer's eyes widened. "Mommy, is that real?"

"Of course not, honey. It's just a story."

"You and Daddy never told me that story!"

"It's kinda boring, to be honest," Jesse said. "This book is definitely more interesting."

Sarah flashed him a smile, and he read the book aloud. Hawk sat on a chair across from him, ostensibly working on some homework but giving frequent, un-subtle glances at them. After Jesse finished the book, Summer said, "Do you want to do the m-machine with me?"

"The what?"

"It helps you focus. It feels good. I'm allowed to do it after school as long as I didn't get into any trouble."

"He's an IS," Hawk said. 

"So?" Summer said. "He can try it."

"Sure, I'll try it," Jesse said, although he regretted saying so when he saw the machine she was talking about. It looked like some kind of Frankenstein thing.

"I'll go first," Summer said importantly. "So you can see how it works."

Jesse glanced back at Hawk, who nodded. "It's fine, she knows how to use it," he said. Jesse watched as she hummed happily to herself while the machine ran. After awhile, she said, "Okay, now it's your turn!" He sat still while she affixed sensors to him. He glanced at Hawk again, who nodded. 

"Okay, I'm going to turn it on. You'll feel a little tickle but that's how you know it's working!" 

"Whoa," Jesse said, when she turned it on.

"Do you like it?"

"Yeah," he said. The sensation actually reminded him of doing crystal. It felt like his brain was on fire, but in a good way. He wondered if using this would reset the months of sobriety he'd racked up. 

After what felt like no time at all, Hawk said, "That's probably enough, for your first time/"

"Huh? Oh...yeah…" Jesse said. Summer helped him take it off. He drew pictures with summer until it was time for dinner, when they joined another family in the backyard. Jesse sat politely through another long prayer and let Sarah answer most of the questions directed at him. All the social interaction was starting to tire him, and he was grateful when Sarah shooed the kids upstairs shortly after dinner so he could go to sleep on the couch. 

He passed out almost immediately, and woke to a gentle shake of his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw himself--no, he realized, it must be that guy Eddie. He took a few deep breaths.

"Whoa, hey, you okay?" Eddie asked. "Whoa, this is weird."

Jesse took another breath. "Yeah, sorry...just...nightmare, I guess." He still had nightmares often, but it had been awhile since he'd woken up screaming. He supposed it had been a particularly unsettling day.

"Yeah, I figured. You were screaming," Eddie said apologetically. "Sarah said you needed your rest but...well, I thought you might not want to keep sleeping through whatever it was you were dreaming about."

"Uh. Yeah. Thanks," Jesse said. He absently rubbed his broken wrist. 

"Hey, you need anything? Let me get you some Tylenol for that." He left and came back with a glass of water and a couple pills before Jesse could reply. "Sarah told me you were hurt in the tornado."

Jesse swallowed the pills gratefully. "Yeah."

Eddie sat down next to Jesse and said, "Hey...whatever you were dreaming about, do you want to unburden it?"

"Huh?"

"Sorry, I mean, tell me about it?"

"Oh...it was just a dream," Jesse said.

"It doesn't matter. Your brain thought it was real enough to be scared...the only way to feel better is if you let all that stuff go," Eddie said. "Trust me, I know how you feel."

Jesse thought about it. He'd learned enough already about this religion to know this was a big thing for them. And since they were nice enough to take him in, he should probably say something. He didn't think describing his actual nightmare--a return to his time with the Neo-Nazis--was going to win him any favors, but he could think of something.

"Um, my girlfriend--Jane--she...she died a few years ago...and sometimes I still...I still dream about it. About finding her body," Jesse said truthfully.

Eddie rubbed Jesse's back lightly. "I understand how you feel. May I unburden to you?"

"Sure."

"I found my brother's body. After, uh, after he committed suicide. Sometime I still have dreams about it...I'll never forget that moment, not as long as I live, even though I no longer carry that suffering with me. May I ask how your girlfriend died?"

"Uh. Drug overdose," Jesse said, but he knew it was more complicated than that. He bit back a sob, remembering what Mr. White had said about her.

"That's good. That's good, unburden yourself of those emotions," Eddie said. "You'll feel better. Shh. Love and light to you."

Jesse sniffed. Eddie kept rubbing his back and murmuring to him, and Jesse eventually cried himself to sleep against his shoulder, feeling safer than he had in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I think there's more to this story, but I wanted to post by the hc_bingo deadline. To be continued?


End file.
